


Colours

by mariesfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5569936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariesfreckles/pseuds/mariesfreckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe, everything perceived by the human eye is without colour (black and white). When you touch your soulmate, everything comes to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colours

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this short fic, I plan to be writing another soulmate au soon
> 
> Also, I know the storyline is a bit moth-eaten. I guess it's my style, I don't know. More or less its still a great plot.
> 
> UPDATE: guys stop reading this it sucked

Ew. Stop holding hands in the hallways of school, it grosses me out. Seriously-- stop. What are you doing? Kissing! Get to class! Seriously, I swear I'm transferring schools if I see one more couple ki— oh ew! They're practically swallowing each other! 

  
"Castiel Novak?" The teacher called, "here."  
Yeah, thats me-- Castiel. I don't really have any friends, nor do I care. I mean, I have my sister, and my little brother. Okay he is not my friend. If anything I have the opposite of friends. Enemies? I mean, I never did anything to them, but they hate me. Now in class we have to talk about ourselves, and that sucks. We do it every time we get a new student. Right before me, my sister went, Anna. "Uhm, hi! As you may know, I'm Anna Milton. I like cats! Okay, I love cats! I have this one cat named Natasha, oh she's so cute!" I tuned out the rest.  
"Castiel?" Mr. Shurley glanced towards me. Oh, its my turn. I stood up, my chair scratched across the floor. Krrrrrk! I shifted my feet until I was facing all twenty-five students. "Uhm.." I started, and a blush crept around my neck, "I'm Castiel.. N-Novak. I like bees and art.. Y-yeah art is pretty cool." I have this bad habit of wringing my hands, or just plain messing with them, so of course, in front of my entire biology class, I embarrassed myself. I quickly sat back down, my introduction being the shortest out of anyone else's. At the end, the new kid stood up, and wow, he is... Unbearably hot. I mean, he is unbelievable!  
"Uh, the name's Dean.. Winchester. I've got a kid brother, Sammy, and I'm an Aquarius. My car is my baby, '67 Impala, and er," he scratched the back of his head, "that's 'bout it. I'm nothin' special." He sat back down, and Mr. Shurley smiled, continuing to talk about whatever he was talking about. 'Nothing special'? Dean Winchester looked a whole lot more than special. Dean's got this beautiful facial structure, and an incredible jaw. His lips are perfect, like how an author would describe a pair of perfect lips in a novel. He looked so fit, though he was wearing like three layers.

Anna is friendly, really nice. That must explain why she invited mister fire hot, Dean Winchester, to sit with us at lunch. It's like she tries to embarrass me, well, tries to give me the opportunities to embarrass myself. He pulled up a chair, running a hand throug his perfect, seemingly gravity defying hair. "Uh, hey, if you don't know, I'm Dean." His voice was hot and thick, almost gravelly. He flashed a brief, handsome smile, and I swear my heart melted. Holy shit. He glanced over at me, "yeah, you're... Castiel, right?" The way my name rolled off of his tongue was like singing a beautiful song about something horrible and disgusting. Somehow, he made it sound beautiful. How morbid. His eyes studied me a moment, before I nodded reluctantly. Dean chuckled, "Yeah, you're the boy who likes... Art and bees? I couldn't forget such a pretty face." Anna's eyes widened, along with my little brother's, Gabe. Charlie giggled, "well then, lover boy, you have a thing for Cassy?" No! I kicked her foot under the table, "don't call me that!" I snapped. Everyone laughed, except me, because it's not funny. "Yeah," Dean began, " I mean, you're cute." My cheeks were burning, and I kept my eyes down, staring at my untouched pizza. If he made a move on me this soon, he must be flirting with a ton of other people too. He's too pretty to not be a player.

When the final bell rang, I made my way through the mob of teenagers, pushing and shoving each other to get out first. And that ladies and gentlemen, is how I imagine my own personal hell. But this time, I was pulled aside by a firm, rough hand, and shoved against aa locker. "Hey bitch, you think you could leave today without seeing me?" Crowley. "Yeah I was hoping I wouldn't have to see your ugly face, Fergus." I retorted, looking up at him angrily. He kicked my gut, "don't call me that, Novak!" He growled, picking me up and push my against the locker again, "gaining some confidence? I don't think so." There was a sharp pain in the centre of my face, and I felt a warm liquid drizzle down my lip. My nose felt broken. But he dropped me. Crowley dropped me. I opened my eyes to see which pain would be delivered unto my body next, but Crowley was being pounded. I mean seriously, wrecked. Dean Winchester, was punching the life out of Crowley, the former quarterback of the football team, before he was kicked out for fighting. I couldn't believe my eyes. Metatron and a few other of his little posse members, backed up, and quickly ran off. "You think you can treat someone that way?" Dean said before punching him once more, "Not on my watch buddy." He growled, his fist meeting Crowley's jaw. "Even touch Castiel one more time and I swear on the stars in the sky to molten core of this shitty planet, I will make your entire life a living hell." Crowley was quaking, his entire face bashed and bloody. Hell, with this new guy talking like that it scared me too. But, he was fighting up for me. What can I say? Crowley was begging for mercy, and Dean pushed off of him, "get out of here." Crowley did just that, running as best he could. Dean walked up to me quickly, extending a hand to help me up, "are you okay?" I took the hand and looked up at him, "I'm alr—" oh my god. Everything was the same, except Dean's eyes. They were glowing a beautiful colour, though I couldn't name it, nor can I compare it to anything. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life. Dean chuckled, his glorious, velvety laugh, and pulled me up. "Are you scared? I'm sorry if I startled you." He apologised, his expression sincere, "no," I smiled, "I'm fine."

 

-

After last week's incident, I've become utterly obsessed with my newfound colour. My grandad told me that the colour is called green. I've only heard green talked about in books. It was the colour of the trees in the summer, and the colour of Harry Potter's eyes. I read that in The Prisoner of Azkaban, perhaps my favourite of the series. Green, must be my favourite colour. I've never seen a different colour before, but I'm positive there is nothing more soothing than the subtle yet bold colour of Dean Winchester's eyes. In the past week, I've tried to touch him as many times as possible to see the colour. These are the things I've recorded that are green: some of the lunch trays; Anna's shoes; grass; the head master's fingernail polish; my Spanish textbook. That's not everything, but its everything I noticed. Some greens are different. Some are bright and bold, and others are subtle and dark.

"Castiel, hey," Dean grabbed my wrist as I was walking towards Maths class. I turn around, meeting his gaze, "hey Dean, what's up?" Dean let go of my wrist, and smiled coyly, "I was wondering," oh I'm scared, this could be anything, "do you want to go on a date with me?" Did he just... did he just ask me out? On a date? On a proper, real life, actual date? My eyes widened, "w-wait, what?" Dean chuckled, intertwining his fingers with mine, "you like art huh? There's an art museum not too far from here. I can take you, and it'd be a date." I smiled wide, squeezing his hand, "okay." He leaned in pressing a small kiss against my lips, and pulled away, still holding my hand, and this time, I saw everything. Every colour. It was the most breathtaking experience in my entire life. I looked at him, and I swear everything felt so complete. Everything was so right. I looked around, seeing the beautiful colours of the halls, "is this real?" I asked. He only chuckled, and walked away, taking the colours with him.

~

Today is the day, I'm going to the art museum with Dean. I mean, I've gone a thousand times at least, but I would hate to tell him. I pulled on my coat, noticing a small tear on the inside. I frowned, observing it, though my thoughts were interrupted with the honking of a car, Dean! I ran outside, getting into the passengers seat of the car with a grin. He looked me over and chuckled, "Cas, y-your—" he sighed, though it was more of a huff of laughter, and straightened my tie, "it's crooked." I thanked him, and took his hand, the world slowly blooming with colour. Grandad taught me new colours; Dean's lips are pink, and his hair is brown. His car, is black, and he was wearing a brown jacket. His shirt was blue, just like the way Ernest Hemingway described the sea. He looked at me as well, I bet he was observing my colours too. He turned the key in the ignition, and pulled the car into reverse, taking the long way to the museum.  
Upon arriving, he pecked my lips, and we walked inside, our fingers intertwined. I had been here so many times, I could name each painting. But this was an entirely different intake. Everything was new, and splashed with colours. Some colours, my grandad hadn't taught me yet.  "Oh my god!" I exclaimed, "it's beautiful!" Dean chuckled, and we admired one I could recognise. It was a colour I didn't know, with a pink box in the middle. Dean didn't quite understand the concept, he thought it was pointless. "It's just a square, why is it art?" But it was abstract, and I thought it was beautiful.  
We admired, and discussed the art all day, and when the day was done, and the sun fell over the horizon, we drove to a small diner owned by his family. When he walked in, a middle aged woman walked straight up to Dean, ruffling his hair, "and where have you been boy?" She asked, in a thick southern accent. "Sorry Ellen, I've been at the art gallery with Castiel here-- right Cas?" I nodded, grinning, "yeah! It was beautiful!" The woman gave me a warm smile, shaking my hand with her soft, fragile hands, "that's great dear, I'm glad you had fun. And if Dean here don't treat you right, you tell me and I'll kick his ass." I huffed a laugh, "yes ma'am, will do." Dean was still holding my hand and he led us to a booth, and sat across from me. The waitress came, and we both ordered Coca-Colas, and burgers. When our food arrived, I ate horribly. I was so hungry, though Dean thought it was funny. "You're so cute," he mused, taking a bite of his burger, a slice of onion falling out. I blushed and shook my head, "oh god no." I said between a bite. We finished our burgers, and took our drinks with us. He thanked, Ellen, his aunt, and we got in the warm car. An overwhelming feeling washed over me, and all I could do was sit there and stare at him. How could I fall in love with someone within the timespan of a month? Is that how love works? All at once?  
He drove me back to my house, and I relieved a heavy sigh. "I don't want to leave you yet." I confessed. Dean smiled, and leaned in kissing me harder than he had ever done in the past few days. "I don't ever want to leave you." He mumbled upon my lips. A blush crept around my neck, colours like flowers in paintings blooming at my cheeks. I kissed him back again, smiling into the kiss. I sigh and pull away, "thank you for today Dean, it was one of the best days of my life." Dean looked down, them back up at me, as if he were hesitant to say what he was thinking, "it was for me too." I grinned, and got out of the car, waving him goodbye.

-

These past two months have been the best for me. I've been dating Dean for a month, and we've had no problems. In fact, I've had no problems in general. Uriel hasn't beat me in what feels like ages, and my grandad taught me every colour. Crowley and his posse keep their distance... Everything is perfect.

I can't breathe, my face is red hot and the room is filled with my laughter, "stop!" I yelp, "get off!" Dean wouldn't quit though, using my extremely ticklish nature against me. He stopped, and in the lapse of those few seconds he leaned down and closed the gap between our lips. "I hate you." I muttered, and Dean only smiled, "I love you more."  
He got up, taking a sip of my water from my bedside table. "Hey!" I complain, "get your own." He smirked, shrugging his shoulders, "ah," he added theatrically after taking a sip, "you love me, shut up." I rolled my eyes, and sat up, blowing raspberries at him like a sulking child. "Oh don't act so childish, love, the cuteness is overwhelming." I got up taking the water, taking a sip, and handing it back to him, "of all people who deserve it, I think it is I, considering how you were tickling me to death!" Dean set the water down, "oh please, no one has ever died of being tickled." Plopping down on the bed, and Dean did beside me, I rolled my eyes, "not yet!" Dean knocked me over on the bed, smiling and kissing my neck, "Castiel: cause of death: laughed too hard." We messed around like this all day, laughing and kissing, our fingers perpetually interwoven.

The next day at school, I held his hand all day. Less for the affection, more for the colours. Charlie has amazing red hair, and Anna as well. Oranges, are in fact, the colour orange, and green beans all the same. I never talked about the colours though, I only admired them. The only person I ever discussed the colours with, was my grandad. He doesn't see colours anymore though, since nan died.  
I was right, green is definitely my favourite colour. I mean, blue is nice, but too similar to grey. Green is perfect. It was the first colour that I ever perceived, and still the most breathtaking.  
Today, Dean and I are going back to the museum, considering it's where we went on our first date. It will bring back so many memories. Perhaps this time, Dean can appreciate the art, rather than question it.

"Come on." He hurried me to get in the car, but I took my time, "you'll wait for me." I disputed. He knew I was right, and patiently waited for me. I got in, after rather casually walking to the car, and smiled, as he did in return. It's a fifteen minute drive, and we listened to music the entire way. I could only recognise one song; that being Kashmir, a rather long song. All Dean said when I mentioned that was, "you should hear Stairway to Heaven." And I have no idea what he meant by that. When we arrived, we went straight to the first painting we saw. "Malheureux" by some French artist I can't pronounce. Dean, of course, thought it was pointless. "Malheureux," I began, "translates to misfortune. The painting, is of that man there, he looks sad, yeah?" Dean shook his head finally coming to terms, "so the man is broken hearted? Something unfortunate happened?" I shook my head, not turning my attention away from the painting, "I don't know," I shrugged, "that's the point of art, we don't always know it's meaning, or even what the artist is trying to express." This, perplexed him. He couldn't exactly wrap his mind around it.  
Finally, we returned to the painting that perplexed Dean the most, as to why it was art. The abstract painting by Josef Albers. "Well look at how abstract it is, the way the yellow contrasts with the pink, it's beautiful." Dean furrowed his brow, and looked at me as if I had just spoken a completely different language, "what?" He said through a laugh, confused as to what I meant. "The colours, pink, yellow... They look nice together."

"Colours?" Dean asked, tilting his head, "what colours?"


End file.
